


I'm No Good at Lip Service

by stormiscoming



Category: 15 明刹工業高校ラグビー部 | 15 - Meisetsu Kougyou Koukou Rugby Bu
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormiscoming/pseuds/stormiscoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Yui took advantage of Yui's naivety about friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm No Good at Lip Service

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

“Guess what I just bought the other day,” Makoto said smugly from where he was perched on top of a desk cluttered with strategy cards. He waved a DVD case in his left hand. Akira perused at it curiously, squinting to see what was written on it: _Forbidden Love at School,_ it had said.

“Oh my god,” whimpered Madoka, looking honestly like he was about to cry. “Is that what I think it is?”

Makoto nodded, grinning in perverse delight. He nodded with his entire body instead of just his chin. “You got it right, brother. Behold, Mai-chan newest film!” he declared, jumping from the table to stand. He opened his arms. At this point, every boys in the club room had stopped to stare at him in something akin to awe and longing. Akira didn’t understand any of it, but since everybody was doing it, he followed the course. He was afraid he’d lose his new friends if he acted out of the norm. “School teacher edition!”

“Makoto-sama!” Mikiyo cried, falling on his knees before the fly-half. “Please lend it to me for the day!”

What is she teaching, Akira thought. She must be a really good teacher if even Mikiyo groveled for it. Maybe he should borrow it too, the classes here were so different from what he had back home.

Unceremoniously the club burst to laughter. “What is she teaching, you asked?!” Makoto laughed, holding his stomach. Akira blushed—he must have said the beginning of his thoughts out loud. The half-back wiped a fake tear before responding slyly, “Wouldn’t you like to know, young padawan. Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Akira rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Um.”

Everybody laughed again, and Akira went along, even if it came out rather like a duck quacking when it was being strangled. Yui looked at him like he knew something Akira didn’t, but that was his face in default most of the times, so Akira didn’t pay him any heed.

“Because I know I am your favorite senpai,” said Makoto, which earned him a glare from Yui. “you may borrow this first. Use it carefully, Peter. For great power comes with great responsibilities.”

Mikiyo and Madoka wailed at that, hands feigned grabbing at the DVD Makoto was passing at Akira. The redhead received it with two hands, treating the DVD like it was something as breakable as fine glass. He was unsure of what to do with it. Mai-chan watched him from the cover of the DVD with a smile that somehow made Akira feel flustered.

“The only DVD player that we have at the house is in the living room,” Akira wondered aloud. He flipped the DVD—the back cover was the same as the front. Akira thought Mai-chan’s skirt was too short for a teacher.

“You have a laptop, don’t you?” asked Hiromi. From the air on his face Akira could tell the other had figured out that the kicker didn’t have the faintest idea about the content of the DVD, and the third-year had took pity on him. “You should watch that on your laptop. With headphones on.”

Akira blinked. “I don’t really know how to play a DVD on my laptop?”

Madoka sat up straight. His hand extended in the air. “I volunteered to be a tribute!” he cried out. “I can teach you! We can watch Mai-chan toge-“

“No,” Yui cut the flanker off with ice in his tone. “ _I_ will teach Akira.”

The sudden change in Yui’s mood surprised Akira. “Um. Thank you, Yui-senpai.”

Mao snorted. Yui elbowed him on the stomach, and said to Akira, “Let’s get ramen first on the way.”

Akira nodded eagerly, smiling, because Yui was a good senpai who always treated him food whenever they went out together. From behind him Mikiyo said something along that he wanted to eat ramen too, but he was quickly silenced by a slap to the back of his head by Makoto. Friends, Akira discovered, could hit each other and not mean any of it. It was weird.

So that was how Akira found himself laying on his stomach on his bed, watching Yui getting out Akira’s laptop from its bag.

“This laptop is brand new,” the winger commented idly.

“It is!” answered Akira. “How do you know, senpai?”

“From the smell,” Yui said, booting up the laptop. “You do know how to turn it on, yes?”

Akira pouted. “Hey, at least I know that much!”

Yui grinned, ruffling up Akira’s hair. “I was just teasing you,”

The redhead harrumphed. “I also know how to use Microsoft Office.”

“Bet you don’t know how to browse the internet,”

“It is a little bit confusing,” admitted Akira, blowing at his left side fringe which had fallen into his mouth. When he looked at Yui, the other was looking at his mouth intently. Akira closed his mouth, feeling along his gum and teeth with his tongue to see whether he had seaweed stuck, but found none.

Yui looked away. “So this is how you watch DVD from your laptop,” he said after a silence Akira could not describe. “Click on this little button right here...”

It wasn’t actually difficult, much to Akira’s relief. After trying it out himself, they were finally set to watch Mai-chan’s teaching. Yui settled comfortably on Akira’s right, forced to be close because they had to share earphones. His elbow was warm against Akira’s.

“You don’t have tissues in your room?” Yui inquired just a little bit into the movie. Mai-chan was still walking in the hall full of boys. It seemed like she was teaching in an all-boys school. From the ruler in her grasp Akira concluded she must be teaching math.

“I do,” said Akira. He took his half of earphones off and left his bed to get the box of tissue under his textbooks. On the second thought, he also got several pieces of paper and two pencils, in case he and Yui wanted to take notes. He put the items next to his laptop and laid down beside Yui again. The strategist looked at the writing utensils oddly, but didn’t say anything.

Mai-chan was now talking to a boy taller than her. They were talking about his bad grades. He was begging her not to fail him, he’d do anything.

“So this is like a movie? I thought this is an educational DVD?” asked Akira.

Yui turned his head towards the full-back so quick, he might have whiplash from it. “What do you mean,” he asked back.

“Eh, isn’t she a math teacher?”

“Akira,” Yui said slowly. “this is porn. We’re watching porn.”

Fire began to eat Akira’s face. Quite literally.

“Mai-chan is a porn actress,” Yui stressed on the word _porn._ “She’s going to suck that boy’s dick in any second.”

“...Oh.” was all what Akira could say. His cheeks must have matched his hair right now. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Worse, what if Yui didn’t want to be his friend anymore, because he didn’t know these things?

Yui looked at him again like he knew something Akira didn’t. His knuckles, Akira saw, were white. Why he was so tense Akira didn’t know. “Do you want to me stop the DVD?” the older boy questioned after a moment of hesitation.

“No!” Akira replied quickly, afraid that Yui would think him so backwater if he refused to watch porn. Big city boys must have watched these kinds of things a lot. “I want to watch it.”

“Okay,” said Yui. “If you’re sure.”

When they came back to the porn—it must be okay to watch porn with friends, Akira reasoned a small nagging voice in the back of his head, even if they were both boys, and it felt a little weird—Mai-chan indeed was on her knees getting the boy’s cock wet. It was hard to tell with the mosaics over the erection, but there was spit and precum all over her lips, and it was enough to stir something in the pit of Akira’s stomach.

She moaned and it sent Akira’s blood to turn hot, until he was wriggling restlessly. It looked like it felt good, to get your dick sucked on. Akira thought it rather dirty, but maybe if it was washed before it’d be okay. Beside him Yui didn’t do as much as a twitch. Akira peeked a glance at his senior, and to his surprise, Yui wasn’t watching Mai-chan—the winger was watching Akira, instead. His gaze was scorching; his breaths were heavy, and somehow it made Akira think of a feline getting ready to pounce a prey.

“Senpai,” Akira meant to call, but in its place a gasp came out.

Yui swallowed before murmuring, “You’ve never watched porn before?”

The fullback shook his head frantically. Yui shifted closer. The bed dipped, sending Akira careened a little towards his senior. The friction on the front of his body felt so good that Akira couldn’t help but grind down in response.

“Please don’t stop being my friend because I haven’t watched porn, Yui-senpai,” Akira pled, hiding his face behind his folded arms.

“That’ll never happen,” asssured Yui, his voice a whisper to Akira’s right ear. His breaths were warm and damp against Akira’s cheek. Why was he so close?

On the background there were wet noises. Akira wanted to watch, but he felt shameful in doing so.

Yui pulled at his ear. “Stop hiding,” he asked. There was something different about his tone.

Akira hissed at the touch, his body pulled taught like a string to be plucked. He hadn’t known his ears were sensitive. He felt the chuckle more than hearing it, because Yui’s mouth was on the back of his nape, now.

“What are you doing, Yui-senpai,” Akira asked weakly.

“Friends can help each other this way too, you know,” Yui said conversationally, as if he was talking about the training regimen he was planning for tomorrow.

“I don’t understand,” Akira sobbed as Yui pulled on his collar and bit down on the fabric. When the lapel flopped back to Akira’s nape, it was wet and cold.

Yui tugged on his hair, and even that sent fire to Akira’s veins. “Look at me,” Yui coaxed.   One of his hands fell on the base of Akira’s back and ran up up _up,_ like he was counting the knots of Akira’s spine. The redhead shuddered with every tap of Yui’s fingertips.

“No,” Akira dug his face deeper to the bed. “It’s embarrassing, senpai.”

“Why is it embarrassing?”

“Because I’ve never watched porn before, and I’m h- hard,” said Akira in a small voice. His words weren’t too clear as his mouth was muffled against the comforter. His tongue was laden. “Please let me go to the bathroom.”

“I can help you with that,” Yui cajoled. His fingers were now butterfly-light on the back of his thigh. “That’s what a good friend would do.”

Was it? Akira questioned himself. He’d never read anything about that. But Akira might be wrong.

“Come on,” said Yui, and this time Akira gave in. He lifted his head and found that Yui’s face was only a breath away from his. Wasn’t new, that. Yui had never taken to the concept of personal space. When Akira sniffed he could smell the lunch on Yui’s breath—the other had had curry—and he mused on whether his senior had smelled Akira’s strawberry milk and onigiri.

Akira sucked on his upper lip, and Yui’s eyes flicked to it. There was an intensity in the depth of his Yui’s frown, not unlike the one he wore before the start of a rugby match. Akira decided he didn’t like it when it was directed at him.

“Yui-senpai...”

“Turn over for me,” the three-quarter back wheedled, pushing at Akira’s shoulder. There were perspirations above his upper lips.

Akira rolled, following the motion of Yui’s push. He fought a little before he was fully laid on his back, but Yui had some good inches on him, so he forfeited. Yui kept his arm firm across Akira’s chest, almost acting like a cage, and only when Akira relaxed he loosened his hold.

It was an understatement to say that Akira was bewildered.

“Senpai-“

“Shhh,” Yui hissed, the –ss sharp on Akira’s ear, “just believe me, okay?”

“Senpai,” Akira tried again, because this- this was _weird_.

“Do you trust me?” asked Yui. His thumb accidentally grazed Akira’s cheek when he made to pull away his arm, and it had felt chilly. Yui crawled closer with his elbow, draping his torso over Akira’s limbs, and the latter was now aware of the other’s palpitating heartbeat.

Akira nodded helplessly.

“Friends must trust each other,” Yui encouraged. Slowly he reached down to get Akira’s zipper-

The fullback caught Yui’s wandering hand. “What are you doing, Senpai!”

“Did you know what a circle jerk is?” reponded Yui instead. Now that he had Akira’s zipper down he could touch Akira over his boxer; and- and Akira was hard, somehow, his erection bulging through his underpants.

“You do it with your close friends,” Yui continued. Akira clutched at the other’s wrist, not quite stopping the caress because it felt _so good._ His blood thrummed in his ears, and pleasure ran and pooled low in his stomach like water flowing to the deep end of a bowl. He gasped, shutting his eyes when Yui’s hand slid inside. Yui’s palm was hot, now, sweaty and sticky.

“It’s easy, really. You touch mine and I’ll touch yours,” said Yui.

Akira’s eyes opened at that.

“But since it’s your first time, you can go first,” Yui said as he twisted his hand in such way that made Akira’s toes curled in. The latter could only rasp a broken moan of Yui’s name.  It wasn’t a hard task to fully immerse himself in the feeling. Somewhere along the line Akira realized that touching himself and being touched were two vastly different things, and that he liked the latter much, much more. Seconds after the realization Akira arched off of the bed with a gasp and he came hard all over Yui’s hand.

When Akira woke up from his haze, Yui whispered, “Now it’s your turn to touch mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is very much appreciated! I can be reached over my tumblr, officialtsukihina. Why does nobody read this manga?


End file.
